Living Doll Post Ep and Beyond
by boothbonesforever
Summary: No, this not a cross over with Star Wars, I'm just really bad at titles, and summaries too, so just read and review. GSR and friendship. T for language. Complete. Maybe.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own CSI or any of the characters. Maybe one day though...**

**Basically this is set just after Living Doll. I'm not planning a character death but you never know, Ecklie might trip and fall of a cliff.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Grissom stormed out of the interrogation room and let out a growl of frustration. Brass came round from the double-sided glass to see his friend leaning against the wall, breathing heavily as if he had just run a race.

"Gil?" he ventured cautiously, realising Grissom's temper was on a short fuse after seeing him shake Natalie.

Grissom looked round, his eyes sparkling with tears.

"I'm going to head back to the lab Jim" he replied, trying his best to keep his voice even. "Can you keep interrogating her", he gestured to the room where Natalie was in, "and call me if you get any news".

It wasn't so much of a question as a demand. No, thought Brass, it was more than that, it was a plead.

Without waiting for an answer Gil left for the car park.

When in the front seat, he leant back in his chair and, facing the ceiling, took three calming breaths. Then he started the car and began his drive back to the lab.

"What the hell is going on!" yelled Grissom as he stormed in the break room, to see Warrick, Nick, Greg and Catherine sitting down, drinking coffee. "I've just been looking round for one of you so you can update me on the situation and I find you in here relaxing!"

"We need a break," Nick murmured carefully and Grissom's breathing started to slow down. "There's still no evidence!"

Gil looked away and felt his anger return in full form. "Is that all you can do, is that all she means to you! There's no evidence so we'll just stop looking!"

"Griss, we need a break," Warrick reinforced, his voice level louder than usual.

The rational part of Grissom's brain understood this but the larger, unreasoning side, which was currently in over-drive, just found this information made him angrier.

"How many breaks did you take when Nick was stuck underground? There was no evidence then but you didn't stop looking for it!"

Greg and Catherine felt all the colour drain from their faces, Nick looked away, all his concentration aimed at the floor but Warrick's face bleached in rage.

"At least we knew he was still alive," he shouted, and to his surprise found himself standing. "At least we knew there was some hope! The rescue teams are already looking for Sara's dead body"

Warrick' outburst echoed around the room and the full impact became apparent when a tear slid down Grissom's face.

Warrick felt the need to apologise. He hadn't meant to say those things; it had been the anger talking. Now he felt stupid and foolish and needed to correct that.

"Look, Gil, I didn't mean …"

"Natalie said she didn't kill Sara" Grissom said bluntly, cutting Warrick off mid-sentence. With that, he turned and journeyed back to his office.

Catherine was the first to react, and she stood up and followed him, leading the guys. They entered to see Grissom, head in his hands, crying at his desk. No-one had ever seen Grissom lose it before and they felt like they were intruding on something very private. Catherine edged her way forward and stood on the other side of his desk. She bent down and took hold of one of his hands.

He looked up at her with sad, distressed eyes.

"We'll find her Grissom, I promise. We'll find her", she whispered softly to him and he slowly nodded his head in acknowledgement and trust.

In the middle of the Nevada Desert there is never a lot of life, especially human. There's hardly any rain either.

Sara's hand scraped at the sand, trying her best to do the impossible and to dig herself free from the unimaginable pain and torture that was occurring with every second she was stuck under the car. Her hand was moving slowly, all her strength had left her long ago and her breath was laboured.

And then it started to rain …

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**Well? Not done yet so tell me if I should keep going or scrap it and try again (or not). Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own CSI or any of the characters. Maybe one day though...**

**Basically this is set just after Living Doll. I'm not planning a character death but you never know, Ecklie might trip and fall of a cliff!**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Sara had always assumed that in a near death situation she would remain calm and be able to think logically and pull out of the situation. Now she realised how wrong she was. When she had woken up, under the car, the pain had stopped her thinking about the terrible situation she was in, she had just wanted to fall asleep again, fall into the darkness. But when it had started to rain… Those little droplets of water had made her realise how close to death she was, how she may not get out of this alive. Suddenly the pain had been forgotten and was replaced but uncontrollable panic and fear.

She had screamed, cried and tried to dig her way out to freedom but no matter what she did the water level kept rising and she stayed pin to underneath the Mustang.

Soon the water would be over her face and she wouldn't be able to breathe.

She was going to drown in the desert.

**4 hours earlier**

After Grissom's outburst and then seeing him cry the team had abandoned their break and got straight back to work. But half and hour later they still hadn't found anything and Natalie had decided she was going to repeated the word 'doll' over and over again and say nothing else.

15 minutes later and even Grissom had started to feel the strain. They had got some of Greg's expensive coffee and had quickly boiled the water and where waiting for the coffee to cool down when Catherine decided to start the questioning.

"Gil?"

His head slowly turned in her direction but he didn't look at her.

"I'm not going to talk about it now", meeting her eyes as he finished his sentence, then returned to stare at the floor. Catherine glared at Nick, who shook his head in refusal, as did Warrick and Greg when she turned to them. Taking a deep breath she prepared to restart her inquiry.

"You aren't dating Sara. You just love her, but aren't dating her. Because if you were… I mean… You two didn't tell us you were seeing each other, so you weren't. Right?"

He didn't answer so she continued.

"Did Brass know? That you loved her? Because…"

At that moment Grissom's mobile started ringing.

"Grissom," he said, standing up, using a moment to glare at Catherine. The others heard talking at the other end of the phone and looked shocked when Gil yelled "What?" down the mobile. The voice continued, seeming to be repeating what it had said before. Then Grissom laid the mobile on the coffee table and, pressing loudspeaker, backed away.

"I know where your girlie is," the voice out of the phone sang. It was male but sounded childish, somehow giving it a deadly touch. "La, la, la, la, la, la! And you will never get her back, la, la, la, la, la, la!" The singing stopped suddenly and was replaced by a much harsher, adult voice. "Oh dear, what a shame, that she's going to die all alone, with no one to help or comfort her. I thought you CSI's were meant to be clever. How would little Natalie carry a strong, fighting woman to a car and put her in the boot and then drive her out into the middle of the desert when she didn't even have a driving licence. Obiously she didn't. What a shame that you others didn't listen to me and leave the evidence alone." Suddenly the childish voice was back. "Start organising the funeral children." Then the phone line went dead.

It was several moments before someone spoke.

"What the hell?" Grissom whispered. He turned to look at the rest of the team. "She has an accomplice? He… what…what did…" He left his incomplete sentences hanging. For once, Gil Grissom didn't know what to say.

For some reason the rest of the team looked guilty. "Gil, that wasn't the first call we got," Catherine said hesitantly, her eyes filling with tears and her voice shaking slightly.

"What?" he questioned softly.

Warrick took up the story when Catherine wouldn't speak anymore.

"He said that we should stop looking for Sara, that there was no evidence in the car and he would tell us where Sara was if we stopped looking. That's why we weren't looking for her when you came in, we were trying to decide whether we should believe him or not. But we did start looking again and now…"

He glanced at the mobile, as if by accident. But Grissom understood. They thought that they had lost Sara forever.

And although he hated to admit it, so did he.

"Start organising the funeral children."

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**Please read and review! Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own CSI or any of the characters. Maybe one day though...**

**Basically this is set just after Living Doll. I'm not planning a character death but you never know, Ecklie might trip and fall of a cliff!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

They stared at the phone.

"Greg!" The team jumped, they had been in silence and Grissom's loud voice was unnerving. "I need you to find the name of the junkyard that Mustang was taken to."

Greg nodded and quickly left the room.

"Do you have an idea?" Catherine asked, the hope in her voice obvious.

"If she got the Mustang, she must have paid someone to get it and, more importantly, she would've had to get someone to move it. If we find who moved it and where that gives us a starting point." The Graveyard Shift nodded, once again filled with a sense of purpose at the return of the 'usual Grissom'.

Catherine stood up. "When Greg gives us the name I'll go down to the scrape yard with…"

"I'll go!" said Warrick. Greg re-entered the room and Catherine and Warrick left after gaining the address.

"What are we going to do, boss?" Nick asked. Sitting here, doing nothing made him feel worthless and hopeless; he need to work.

"Greg is going to get the records on that junkyard's employees." He signalled to Greg and the young CSI left. "Nick, you and me are going to see Archie – we are going to trace this call."

* * *

Catherine jumped out the car and ran to the entrance to the scrape yard and was already asking to see the manager when Warrick caught up.

"Lady, it's six in the morning!" the attendant stouted.

"Is the manager in?"

"Yeah but he won't see anyone until seven so come back later."

"What if he was going to be questioned for a kidnap investigation?" Catherine asked holding up her badge. "CSI Willows and Brown," she said, indication to Warrick as she introduced him, "and we would like to see the manager!"

The attendant paused, looking at their badges, then he finally lifted up the phone.

"Boss, there's some people down here from the crime lab, said they're here about a kidnap investigation. Okay." He hung up. "He's going to be down in a minute."

* * *

"What do you mean 'we can't trace the call'?"

"Exactly what I said Nick, we can't trace it, it's impossible." Nick turned and started to leave the room. "_But_…" Nick spun around and Grissom's hands clenched, "we did find out the number. It belongs to a Michel Barton. He's a police officer." He offered them a sheet and Nick snatched it away and Grissom took out his mobile and dialled Brass' number.

"Brass."

"It's Grissom."

"We haven't got anything yet Gil, she won't talk but…"

"This isn't about Natalie, Jim. Do you know a police officer called Michel Barton?"

"Yeah"

"You need to bring him in for questioning, his cell phone just made a call to mine. The speaker said he knew where Sara was."

* * *

"A red mustang? For CSI?"

"Yes please, Mr Walker." Catherine and Warrick where sat in the scrape yard's manager's office with the manager.

"We had a red mustang, yeah, and we sold it to a brunette chick, uh, Nat or something. She paid cash." The manager was a red-faced big man who had a worried look in his eyes.

"You _sold_ a car that was being used in a current _investigation_!"

"We were told that it was no longer needed!"

Catherine breathed deeply, willing herself to calm down. She had learnt from experience the more relaxed you were the more willing scared witnesses were to talk. "Who told you that the car was no longer part of our investigation?"

"A tall police officer, Michel Barton I think his name was!" the scared man proclaimed and Warrick and Catherine looked at each other, a successful look in each of their eyes.

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**Please read and review! Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own CSI or any of the characters. Maybe one day though... **

**IMPORTANT!! You know how I said that I'm not planning a character death… well, I might – _might_ – be changing my mind. _Might._**

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**Chapter 4**

"Michael! How are you? Wife well? Kids?" Brass entered the room and addressed the nervous man in front of him in a sarcastic yet dangerous voice.

Michael Barton was a tall man with dark hair and glasses. He was handsome and in perfect physical shape – he looked more like an actor than a police officer. At the moment he looked terrified.

"So, lets start at the beginning with what _we _know and then we're going to find out what _you_ know. Okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Jim turned to Grissom and motioned for him to speak.

"You're cell phone made a call to mine. A…" he searched for the right word. "Threatening message was left about one of our CSIs whose current health situation is unknown. You've heard of the miniature killer?" Barton nodded furiously. "A model of our CSI under a red mustang was sent to us. That red mustang was part of an ongoing investigation. You told the car scrape manager…" Grissom's phone started to ring. "Excuse me."

He talked into the mobile for a bit while Jim glared at the suspect.

"Thank you Greg." Grissom took his place at the table again. "Sorry about that. Where was I? Oh yes, you told the manager that we were finished in the investigation so he could sell that car to Natalie Davis, aka the miniature killer. And Greg, another CSI, just phoned to tell me that we found a print on Sara's car. It's yours."

"Why don't you tell us where Sara is, Michael?" Brass asked, the anger in his voice terrifying the police officer.

"Look, I didn't want to get involve in this, I didn't." He took a calming breath. "I work in the prisons sometimes, you know, to cover guards who're ill or something, they're not in, on short notice. Anyway, this one prisoner knew who I was, don't ask me who he is, I'm not going to tell you," he said when Brass was about to inquire. "He said I had to do some stuff, because otherwise people on the outside, his contacts, would kill my family. My wife's just given birth to twins!"

"Congratulations," Jim said sarcastically. "What 'stuff' did he ask you to do?"

"I had to give my mobile to some people, they looked rough, I don't know any names! I had to clear the mustang so it could be bought. To knock out your CSI, Sara. To help Natalie carry her to the car. We used my car because she doesn't have one. I had to drive out into the desert – Natalie doesn't have a driver's license either."

"Where did you take Sara?" Grissom pushed. He was so close to finding her, she wasn't going to die!

For the second time Barton seemed unwilling to co-operate.

"Barton, we asked a question!"

"My family… I'm already pushing it with what I've told you so far…" Before he could finish Grissom interrupted him.

"The woman I love is out in the middle of the desert, stuck under some car, _dying_, because of you! _Where is Sara_? I don't care about your wife and kids, we'll get someone to protect them, just tell me where Sara is!"

He hesitated.

"We'll keep your family safe, Michael," Brass reassured, playing good cop, a role reversal for him and Gil. "I promise. Please just help us find Sara."

Barton took a deep breath. "We drove about 20 miles towards the Hoover Dam. We dropped her off. The rough guys were there, so was the mustang and their cars. I rode away with Natalie and they stayed there with Sara." He paused. "They'd also dug a ditch. You can't access this place by air, at least not tonight, it would be impossible, suicide!"

"And why's that?" Grissom was dreading the answer.

"A storm was coming, a big one. It was starting to rain when I dropped her off, and it's been about 4 hours since then."

Brass nodded his head and stood up. Grissom followed suit.

"Put him in a holding cell." Barton didn't argue. "I f you lying," Brass said, addressing Michael, "then you should start to worry about your family – they get protection when I say and not before, understand?" Barton nodded vigorously, terror in his eyes. "Good."

With that, Brass and Grissom left the room.

* * *

Sara struggled, the water reaching her face covering her mouth. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move. She was trapped.

* * *

The drive to their destination was tense. Brass, Catherine, Ecklie and Warrick were in the first car, the air tense, each waiting for the others to speak, dreading the moment they would be forced to talk.

Warrick looked behind again. The rain was so heavy that he couldn't see the car carrying Grissom, Nick, Greg, Sophia and another police officer he didn't know. Was it the rain? Where they lost? Maybe they'd fallen in a ditch and couldn't get free.

No! Warrick told himself. It's just the rain, they're fine, and you're thinking that because of Sara. Oh god, Sara. Warrick felt tears prick his eyes again. He was glad he wasn't driving, he'd have crashed the car at least ten times by now.

Catherine was in the front seat, staring straight ahead, silent tears flowing down her unmoving face, her hands in her lap shaking slightly. He had never realised Catherine would react like that. Brass was driving and Ecklie was twitching next to him.

He took a deep breath. "How long have we been driving?" he asked, thanking an unknown someone that his voice hadn't cracked.

"Eighteen and a half miles," replied Brass, the sound low and quiet as if he didn't trust himself to speak up. Warrick didn't blame him.

"Wait, there!" shouted Ecklie and Brass slammed on the brakes. Outside they could see a red blur, not to far from the car. Catherine was out and running before the car had stopped, Brass was talking into his radio to call back up and Eckile's twitching had increased so much he couldn't open the door.

Warrick was out the car and chasing after Catherine, the rain hitting him like bullets. He tripped and fell. He looked up from the dirt. He could just make out Catherine kneeling at the side of the car. Seconds ticked by and the dread Warrick had been feeling died down a little. Then he heard Catherine scream.

* * *

Suddenly Sara felt a hand on her hand, heat on her arm. Someone was checking for a pulse, telling her everything was going to be all right. Catherine! She tried to talk to the older woman but the water was in her mouth, filling her lungs. She couldn't breathe. It was growing dark and she felt cold. So this is what dying feels like she thought. It's peaceful.

The last thing she remembered was Catherine holding her hand.

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**Now I know what's going to happen next but you don't so tell me your theories, whether you love or hate it, your cats name, _anything_! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer - I don't own CSI or any of the characters. **

**I'm not going to tell you if there's a C D, you'll just have to read and see!**

**This chapter is basically a lot of the same scene/time from different points of views and how everyone reacted to their situations.**

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**Chapter 5**

Grissom scrambled to get out of the broken Denali and surveyed the damage. The tyre on his side was gone, and the car had come off the road into the ditch. The engine was slowly filling up with water and the bonnet was smashed in. Even if they could get the car out it would be impossible to get it working again, at least not in time to find Catherine's SUV, the rescue service and ambulance. And Sara, he thought bitterly. He felt sick with dread for her and now he wouldn't even be there when she was found, to hold her hand and comfort her. If she was alive. He cursed himself; of course she was alive, don't think like that!

Nick, Greg, Sofia and an officer he didn't recognise joined him.

"Dammit!" Nick cursed under his breath but it was difficult to hear in the wind and rain.

"We should get of here, this ditch is going to fill with rain water and we don't want to be in it when it does," said the unknown man. That depends on Sara's health thought Grissom but he clambered out the pit anyway.

"Okay," said Sophia, taking control of the situation. "We're about 18 miles from Vegas and about 2 from where Barton said Sara was, so I suggest we keep walking in the direction we were driving. That way we could come onto the site or we may meet the others when they're on their way back and see if the rescue team can give us a lift to whichever hospital the paramedics are taking Sara. Just to make sure she's 100 percent, of course." She sounded a lot more confident than she looked, her eyes giving away her doubts about Sara being safe. Although the two women weren't close Grissom could tell that she wanted Sara to be safe as much as everyone else did, as much as he did.

The group nodded their agreement at the proposed plan and started their journey along the road.

* * *

_Then he heard Catherine scream… The last thing she remembered was Catherine holding her hand._

Catherine got out of the SUV before it had stopped and ran full pelt to the overturned mustang. She slid down into the mud, reaching for Sara's hand and searching for a pulse, anything that would tell her they weren't too late. She found one in the arm that was lying outside the car, exposed to the elements, but it was weak and Sara's skin felt cold to the touch.

"It's okay, Sara," she told the brunette, shouting to make herself heard over the howling wind and rain. She was already soaked through but she didn't care. She held Sara's hand and kept a finger on the pulse, reassuring Sara constantly.

She heard the younger women try to speak, although she couldn't make it out. But she recognised that sound, it was the sound of someone trying to talk when underwater. She bent down to see Sara's head in the pool of water and mud under the car. She was about to reach under and pull her head up when the pulse underneath her fingers stopped. For a second she was sure she'd imagined it, sure that she was wrong, but the slow, unsteady beat didn't return.

Catherine didn't hear herself scream. She wouldn't remember putting her arm under the car to desperately lift Sara's head out the water. She didn't feel Warrick's hand on her shoulder as he finally caught up, didn't hear the sound of sirens and the medics come to help. She never saw the car being pulled off Sara. All she felt, heard, saw and would remember was fear, the fear that makes you feel numb from the very centre of your body outwards and Sara's cold, clammy hand in hers.

But she did remember when the paramedics made her let go of Sara's hand and she remembered trying to fight them off. That stopped the numbing effect, that simple movement of removing her touch, because holding Sara's hand was the only reassurance Catherine had had at the time. She remembered watching them turn the younger women over, take off her LVPD jacket and start CPR. She remembered the youngest doctor, probably an intern she'd thought, and how he'd yelled that Sara was okay, that he'd got a pulse. After she'd heard that she stopped struggling against Brass and Warrick who'd had to hold her back. She watched the medics as they loaded Sara into the ambulance quietly and without a fight and she got in afterwards and held the brunette's hand again, just like she had earlier and just like when Nick had got rescued. The difference was that when Nick had been rescued he was safe, but Sara was nowhere near that.

* * *

Greg knew something was wrong the second they'd driven over the bump. It was pretty difficult to miss seeing as the car dipped on Grissom's side and suddenly swerved into the ditch at the side of the road. He looked behind him to see the rescue crew slowing down and gave thumbs up to say everyone was all right without checking, his only concerns for Sara. The red van gathered speed again and soared past, the ambulance close behind, sirens screaming. 

He then turned round to check on the other passengers. His boss was already out the car, looking at the damage. Sophie was trying to open her door but to no avail, the ditch's walls were in the way. Nick and Graham, the police office, were looking at him expectantly and he realised they were waiting for him to get out the car. He turned and opened the door, stepping out into the bottom of the muddy pit his shoes immediately covered. The others emerged too, Sophia sliding into the back before getting out. Graham said something but he didn't hear, climbing out the pit when he saw everyone else doing so. Once out he reached down and helped Sophia, who then told everyone her plan. They nodded enthusiastically to give her more determination as everyone could see the fear and doubt locked in her eyes and her expression. He just hoped that she was right when she said Sara would be okay.

* * *

Warrick and Brass were trying to hold back Catherine who was deaf to their attempts at soothing comments. 

"Catherine, please calm down, Sara's going to be fine! Just let the paramedics do their jobs," Warrick heard Jim shout. He was yelling, Warrick knew, not out of anger but just to be heard above the gale. Warrick was going to try another comment but before he was able to one of Catherine's arms hit him in the face. Who knew this woman had so much energy? She was using all his just to keep her from running forward.

"Okay, okay! She's good! I got a pulse! Let's move her!" the young doctor shouted and immediately Catherine stopped struggling. Panting, Warrick looked at Sara for the first time, his focus being on Catherine before.

Her clothes were soaking with wet mud and water, her hair tangled and she had a black eye. Her waterlogged jeans were torn and a shoe was missing. He looked round at Brass to see how he was taking this sight, not able to look at what Natalie had done to such a strong and independent woman. Brass wasn't looking at Sara either but looking at the ground and Warrick was surprised to see tears flowing down the older man's face. The CSI's eyes sought out Ecklie and found him looking at Sara in disbelief, his clothes covered in mud as he had helped the rescue team to lift the car of the broken body.

Warrick turned back to Sara, this time to observe the less personal details, careful not to look at her face so that he wouldn't let himself remember who it was. She appeared to have no broken limbs but as he looked into the pit where she'd been captive and back at her he noticed that she had some serious injuries; there was too much blood in the ditch for all her cuts to be superficial.

He watched her get loaded into the ambulance, paramedics swarming around her, tubes being connected into her body and bandages being wrapped round her delicate frame. He saw Catherine climb in after her and then he turned and ran back to the SUV, his thoughts on getting to Desert Palms as soon as humanly possible.

* * *

Nick was walking next to Sophia, in front of Graham and Greg and behind Grissom. His supervisor was walking so fast that it was difficult to keep up; Graham, who was short, was practically jogging. 

They'd been walking for about a quarter of a mile in complete silence, everyone afraid to break it, when the ambulance came shooting past.

"Sara," he heard Grissom say, more to himself than anyone, but Nick could hear the stress and sorrow in his voice and wished for what seemed like the millionth time that Sara would be all right, this time for his boss.

The rescue team stopped when they saw them, Brass' Denali behind it. Brass was driving and Nick could see Warrick in the passenger's seat, covered in mud and sand, and Ecklie in the back, his pale face unreadable. Warrick climbed out the car and Grissom rushed forward, inquiring, very loudly, how Sara was. He overheard their conversation, how Sara was given CPR and that she had a pulse but was still in a critical condition. Grissom then clambered into the back of the SUV and Nick raced and joined him, Sophia, Greg and Graham getting into the rescue party's van.

She was going to be okay, he told himself, she was going to be okay. At last he was starting to believe it.

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**So… what did you think?**

**Thanks for all your amazing reviews - Lionessmom, I have a dog called Bruce too!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer – I own my school stuff. That's it. I'm not even legally allowed to own CSI; apparently I'm not old enough to own a business!**

**Sorry it's taking so long! More Cath/Sara friendship**

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**Chapter 6**

"Catherine!"

The blonde spun round at the sound of her name, her blue, intelligent eyes searching out the caller. She saw them, Grissom at the front leading Nick, Warrick, Brass and Greg, and she gathered it was her supervisor's voice she'd heard. As they drew closer a nurse walked past and looked at them all. They all looked terrible although she had to admit that she probably didn't look a picture either, but they were past caring about appearances.

"How is she?" asked Gil abandoning pleasantries and the others gathered round to hear the verdict.

"I don't know, I'm so sorry. We were in the ambulance and… She had to be resuscitated so many times…" Catherine's voice broke but she continued. "As soon we got here they rushed her off and she's in surgery at the moment. She been in there for almost …" More sobs. "Almost half an hour."

The others nodded and slowly they started descending into the seats in the corridor.

"Where's Ecklie and the others?" Catherine asked, breaking the silence that had fallen.

"Ecklie and Sophia drove back to the lab to organise everything. Dayshift are doing the case."

"Where were Sophia and you guys anyway?" she asked, remembering from the blur that had been an hour and a half ago that they hadn't been present.

"Car fell into a ditch," said Nick simply from his seat up the row.

The silence came again. It wasn't uncomfortable, it was tense, everyone waiting for the news.

It was becoming unbearable for Catherine, the waiting and the uncertainty. The two women were not as close as some of the others but they were, for want of a better word, friends. They had gone for drinks and complained about men after Sara had found out Hank had cheated on her, the slightly drunk brunette had told the older woman about liking Grissom, and Catherine had called Sara when she thought she had been raped.

They may not have been that close and they did fight but they trusted each other and were there if the other asked for help. The asking was the hard part.

And suddenly Catherine lost it. She broke down, crying as hard as she had the night they had found Lindsey, except the tears for her daughter had been happy and these were of despair. She felt someone hold her hand and she remembered holding Sara's, forcing her to cry harder.

"Oh God." She looked up to see Sophia, Ecklie, Mandy, Hodges, Wendy, Henry, Archie, Doctor Robbins, David, basically the rest of the lab staff, standing in front of them.

"Is she…" continued Mandy, who had blasphemed before.

"No," answered Warrick, standing. "We're still waiting." But as he looked down he could see how she had come to this conclusion. Catherine had resumed losing control; Nick was staring at the wall, his expression blank; Greg and Brass were sitting silently, tear marks and puffy eyes decorating their faces, the older man's hand in Catherine's as she attempted to squeeze it off; Grissom resting his forehead in the palms of his hands, his fingers clutching onto rosemary beads, praying under his voice. His boss had once said he was not a religious man anymore although he had been raised that way but old habits die hard and here he was praying to a God Warrick never even realised Gil still believed in. They were all soaking wet and shivering slightly, and had a coating of mud.

"But she's still in surgery," he continued. "We'll call when we know more." They nodded and left apart from Sophia and Doctor Robbins, the latter taking a seat in a plastic chair. The black man looked expectantly at Sophia, the woman standing uncomfortably.

"Your wife called wondering where you are and Catherine's daughter, Lindsey, she was also after her mum. I said you two would call them." Warrick nodded and Sophia departed as well.

He slowly made his way to the pay phone at the top of the corridor and dialled in his home number. Tina answered on the first ring.

"Hello?" Her cheery voice made him feel slightly more optimistic.

"Hey baby."

"Where the hell are you?" Her voice turned harsh and angry as she realised it was him.

"I'm at the hospital…" He quickly recapped the past eight hours, his voice cracking more than once. At the end Tina was far away from the pissed off wife and was now the concerned love of his life.

"Baby, I am so sorry," she whispered.

"Tina, could you do me a favour?"

"Sure, anything!"

"Catherine's kid is going to need a place to stay tonight. Could you…"

"Of course," she said, predicting the end of his sentence.

"Thanks. I love you."

"I love you too."

After he hung up he called Lindsey, briefly explained the situation (this time in a steady voice) and told her the direction for his house.

Later he'd have to talk to Catherine about her daughter being so trusting of the person on the other end of the phone he thought as put down the receiver. Looking up he saw that at the next corridor that was to his left had the theatre at the end of it. Checking to see no one was around he stole down the corridor and entered the room at the end. It was the observation room and it was empty. He looked out onto the surgery and saw why.

What looked like the entire hospital staff were in the room below, crowding round the figure on the operation table, either offering tools, applying tubes or working on Sara. She was lying in the centre and her face looked so peaceful under the anaesthesia, the black eye contrasting starkly on her painfully pale skin. Her body, on the other hand, was covered in cuts and incisions.

"Excuse me sir." Warrick spun around to see a nurse in the doorway. "You're not allowed in here, sorry."

He nodded and left to join the group once again. He entered the corridor and looked at them; it was a sorry sight. Catherine was now sobbing on Brass' shoulder, Nick was kneeling in front of her, grasping her hand, the Doc had an arm around her shoulder and Greg was pacing. Only Grissom stayed exactly where he'd been, still praying.

"Where'd you go?" asked Brass who looked like he was searching for a distraction as Warrick drew nearer.

"I had to phone Tina and Lindsey." Catherine looked up sharply. "Tina's looking after her for tonight," he said answering her questioning gaze. He avoided saying anything about what he'd seen in the surgery observation room, not wanting to talk about the distressing sight.

"Thanks," said Catherine, her voice weak.

Warrick looked up at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. It told him Sara had been in surgery for about three hours. Christ, he thought, she's still got all those incisions after three hours!

"H…" Everyone turned to face Grissom. He hadn't uttered a sound since demanding how Sara was. "How was she?" he asked, trying to make voice steady and even. It was.

"Sorry?" Nick.

"Warrick went to the observation room." He finally looked up at them just in time to see their heads spin to the younger man who looked at him in surprise. Did he think that just because I'm praying I'm not paying attention? he thought.

"You went to the observation room?" Greg.

"After I'd rung Tina and Lindsey, yeah," he said reluctantly. He sounds worn out thought Gil.

"_Well_?" Catherine.

"She was doing good."

Everyone's expressions read that they didn't believe him but they said nothing, accepting his statement. They once again fell into the easy silence, Grissom back to praying, the rest sitting and fidgeting.

They spent another two hours in silence and apart from the occasional journey to get coffee they stayed waiting together. Then… Steps echoed down the hall and they looked up to see a tired looking doctor coming towards them.

"Sara Sidle's family?"

"Yes." Perfect unison.

"Are her biological family here?"

"No, but we work with her, we're here friends!" argued a desperate Nick.

"Well, she a fighter. She's stable and her condition is no longer serious." There was a collective sigh of relief. "There were no broken bones but there was huge amounts of external and internal injuries, but we've stitched here up and she should make a full recovery although I would like to keep her in for a week to keep an eye on her."

"Thank you." Brass.

"She'll be awake in about half an hour but the nurse doesn't want too many people visiting at once." The team nodded in understanding and the doctor walked away.

"She'll be okay!" said Catherine happily turning to Doctor Robbins and saw Gil sitting next to him. He was still leaning over, his shoulders moving up and down; he was crying.

"Thank you," she heard him whisper, over and over again, his fingers still grasping onto the rosemary beads. Then Greg pulled her up into a hug and she felt herself smile as she danced and celebrated with the rest of the group until a nurse came down and asked them to be quiet.

"Someone needs to call the Lab Rats," pointed out Greg.

"Volunteering?" Catherine asked smiling.

"Hell no. I used to be one of them. Until I'm a Level 3 CSI I am excluded from that sort of thing."

"I'll do it," said Grissom. He stood up, his body felt stiff. He turned to look at them and walked to the payphone.

"Did anyone else think that was creepy?" Greg whispered once Grissom was out of earshot.

"What?"

"He looks… _normal_!"

"No tear marks, perfectly composed, hiding his feelings, it's Grissom, what's weird?" asked Brass but it was rhetorical.

Just then a nurse came down the corridor. "Sara's friends?" she enquired, her voice soft and relaxing.

"Yes," said Catherine.

"I think you should come with me, Sara needs to see a familiar face."

"Should we get Grissom?" asked Greg as they followed the nurse. "I mean he was pretty shook up and he did admit to being in love with her; what was it, 'the only person he ever loved'?"

"Really?" asked Doctor Robbins and they got so involved in their conversation that they didn't notice Brass smirking.

He listened to their far-fetched theories as they got to Sara's room, Catherine basically deciding for the whole group that they should ask Grissom what he meant before embarrassing him and Sara. But as they turned the corner and entered her space they realised that her current romantic predicament was the least of their worries.

Sara was in her bed and instead of acting like a normal person would and staying still in the bed, trying to get rid of the pain of being under a car and in surgery for hours, she was thrashing round, hitting away doctors and nurses as they tried to come near her.

"Sara!" shouted Catherine, appearing to be the only one not paralysed by fear, and she rushed forward and looked over Sara, grabbing her hand and with one of hers and smoothing her co-worker's hair with the other like she used to when Lindsey had nightmares.

Sara's eyes locked onto hers and for a second there was fear in them, tears building waiting to break free and again Catherine was reminded of her daughter's bad dreams and the terror that came before realisation dawned that it wasn't real. Then Sara suddenly stopped and lay in her bed, her breathing fast and uneven.

"Shh sweetie, it's okay," Catherine whispered. "There's nothing to be frightened of, we're here, you're safe."

"Are they here?" The brunette's voice was scratchy and harsh from under-use and the sand that had been clogged there.

"Are who here honey?" asked Catherine, still brushing Sara's hair off her face and holding her hand like she had done in the desert and in the ambulance, this time reassured to feel the firm grip returned.

"My parents?" Sara whispered in a voice only the older woman could hear.

A brief flash of confusion crossed Catherine's face – she'd been expecting 'the scary men' or 'Natalie' or 'the evil policeman' – but let it go.

"No, they're not here," and in her hand Sara's strong, scared hold loosened. That was strange thought Catherine as they doctors came forward to ask the younger woman some questions (Sara's death grip had returned). She really doesn't like doctors and she seemed terrified of her parents and hospitals. Catherine didn't dwell on these observations though because the doctors quickly left and she and the rest of group crowded round Sara, the blonde still holding her hand.

"I'll be outside if you need anything," said the soft speaking nurse, and closed the door behind her.

"How you feelin' girl?" asked Warrick.

Sara cracked a brief, sarcastic smile. "Oh, just great."

Smiles erupted from the others as well, they were happy to see the return of the usual Sara, although her voice still sounded like cardboard.

"Where's Grissom?" she asked, suddenly realising his absence.

"Shit, Grissom!" exclaimed Brass. "I completely forgot about him!"

"Don't worry, when he's off the phone he'll come see you Sara," guaranteed the coroner.

"Phone?"

"Everyone's been pissing themselves with worry about you girl," said Warrick. "At one point you had almost the whole lab here looking for you! Ecklie even ruined a suit for you!"

But Sara had stopped listening and was looking at the door.

"Hey," she said, her tone quiet and reducing the sandpaper effect.

"Hey," came a familiar voice from the entrance and everyone turned to see Grissom staring at Sara.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Sara, you've just been stuck under a car and in surgery for God knows how many hours and your asking me how I am?" he asked, humour in his question. Sara didn't answer and stared straight at him, waiting for a reply. "I'm good," he said softly. "You?"

"Well," she said, "I'd be a hell of a lot better if they if they let me out this hospital!"

He smiled and from the corner of his eyes could see the others looking from him to Sara, trying to figure out his statement from earlier. Well, he had said they'd discuss it later, just in not so many words…

"I know you don't like hospitals," he said, moving towards the empty space near her head, opposite from where Catherine was. "But we're here for you." He took the seat, his eyes never leaving her unwavering pair. He brushed some hair from her face. "_I'm_ here for you."

Then he leaned over and brushed his lips against hers before giving her a tender kiss. After about ten seconds she suddenly pulled back.

"Griss," she whispered in surprise. She looked at the rest of the group, slack jawed or smiling. She turned back, a determined look in her eye. "Griss!" she said, an edge to her tone.

"You were stuck under a car!" he tried to plead.

"I was gone for a few hours and you start telling everyone! I was expected to keep it for four weeks while you were away and you can't for barely three hours!" she said in mock anger.

"It was more like 10 and at least when I was on sabbatical I wasn't in mortal danger!" he shot back, smiling and despite herself Sara felt another smile creep onto her features.

"_Hello_!" The happy couple turned to face Catherine who had spoken. "You two better start talking!"

"Sabbatical? That was like half a year ago!" exclaimed Nick.

Sara looked sideways and caught Grissom's eye. "Well, it happened after Caroline Fitzgibbon's case – remember that one? – we all met up for breakfast in the diner and after you guys left, me and Griss…"

"Caroline Fitzgibbon's case! That was a _year_ and a half ago!" exclaimed Catherine and the others looked at the cornered pair.

"You didn't tell us after a year and a half of being together? If this hadn't of happened, would you have told us?" asked Nick, his voice getting dangerously loud.

"Ask Ecklie," said Sara quickly.

"What?" asked Greg.

They glanced at each other once again.

"We had to go to Ecklie to ask if we could date, it says that in the employee hand-book," said Grissom.

"There's an employee hand-book?" asked Catherine.

"So we went," continued Grissom, ignoring Catherine's question. "And he said we couldn't tell anyone otherwise he would fire us."

"His exact words were that he would use the excuse that I stayed employed by swapping sexual favours."

"How did we not notice this?" asked Warrick. "We're meant to be CSIs!"

"I have an excuse, I'm just the coroner," said Al.

"As do I." Brass.

"You have no excuse, you're a detective," counter Greg.

"Oh yeah, my excuse is I knew and you didn't." This time all their jaws dropped, excluding Grissom and Sara.

"What?" demanded Warrick, his voice deadly.

"That actually had nothing to do with your detective skills Jim," said Grissom.

No matter how much they asked, the couple wouldn't reveal how Brass knew.

"Jim, come on!" pleaded Catherine.

"Well…"

"Don't even think about it!" shouted Sara.

"Jim!" Gil warned

"It was a Saturday night and it was mine and Gil's night off," he said smiling, ignoring their pleas. "We'd arranged to meet up and go out for drinks. We were meeting at his place…"

* * *

**So… what did you think?**

**I did have a scenario for if Sara died, but I just couldn't do it! **

**Thanks for all your amazing reviews!**

**Next chapter continues where this one left off, bring on Brass' story!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer – I don't own CSI, I'm just borrowing them and I promise to return them in the same condition. And I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine and no, you can't have them.**

**Sorry this took so long. This is the last chapter so my A/N is also a thank you to everyone who read this and a special thanks to those who reviewed.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

"It was a Saturday night and it was mine and Gil's night off," he said smiling, ignoring their pleas. "We'd arranged to meet up and go out for drinks. We were meeting at his place…"

_I stood outside his door, shivering in the unusual and rare cold night of Las Vegas._

_Jesus Gil, take your time why don't you!_

_I rang his bell again. Nothing. Maybe its not working, I thought. Gilbert Grissom wasn't the most organised person on the planet. Plus, it was fucking freezing and if he didn't open the door soon I'd go and get drunk by myself._

_I lifted my hand to knock on, but was surprised when it opened to my touch. That's weird. That's really weird. I'm a detective – an unlocked door that wasn't being answered is never a good sign._

_I pushed the door inward with my shoe, checking it quickly for any telltale signs of forced entry. There wasn't any and the lock looked intact. Who the hell would insanely private Grissom open his door to? As I entered I looked at the back of the doorbell – the batteries were missing, lying useless and abandoned on the floor._

_I guess I could forgive him for not opening the door._

_I proceeded slowly into the house, listening for movement and looking for signs of a struggle. I didn't have to do either too hard. Furniture was everywhere, his house looked a mess. Bug specimens and photos were strewn on the floor and there was a shoe on the stairs. I looked at it – probably a man's size 11, about Grissom's size._

_Furniture all over the place, an abandoned shoe, pictures on the floor…_

_And noise coming from upstairs. Sounded like a struggle._

_I should call for back up, screamed the rational, cop side of my brain but it was drowned out by the din the other, larger side was making which told me to go and save my friend before anything happened to him._

_I slowly edged up the stairs, gun now drawn, my gunshot wound in my chest throbbing as a reminder of the last hostage situation I was in. _If_ this was a hostage situation and I wasn't walking to an almost certain death. Deep breath, keep calm._

_I reached the landing and I could hear the struggle coming from a room at the end. Someone was whispering but it was so low I couldn't understand what he was saying. I could hear Sara in my head, telling me off for thinking it was a 'he', but no woman would be able to tackle Grissom, he was stronger than he appeared, in nature and looks – I'd seen a punch bag after the bug man had been at it._

"Since when does Grissom hit a punch bag?" asked Catherine.

"Do you want me to tell the story or not?"

_I edge forward, clicking off the safety on my gun. There was a low chuckle - this bastard was laughing at hurting my co-worker and friend! I moved slightly faster, careful not to make any noise. My attempts were in vain as I stepped on a loose floorboard. Shit! The sound echoed round my head as I silently cursed myself. The movement in the room stopped for a second. I heard someone whisper something, but I couldn't make it out._

"_Its just Bruno," said Grissom, his voice strained._

_Bruno? Oh, the dog. I remembered him; he was a great dog but, as was being proved with the intruder and myself, a lousy guard dog._

"_Either way, you have a gun," continued my friend._

_The intruder seemed satisfied with that answer for he the rustling continued. But my brain was on overdrive – the guy had a gun! Hopefully I had the element of surprise but that was assuming there was only one of them. Fuck! And it was too damned late to back out now. _Fuck!_ But…_

_Gilbert Grissom was a smart man, no doubt about it. He knew I was coming and he'd said that sentence pretty loud. The front door was left unlocked. He knew me as well as he let himself know anybody; partner that with my cop intuition then… – maybe he'd guessed it was me! He would have issued some kind of warning if I was going to be in danger, I had to do this!_

_I crept forward again until I was outside the door. My heart was beating a drum roll inside my chest and I was sweating with anticipation and worry. My breathing became laboured and doubts started floating into my mind like usual before I risk my life for someone else's, a feeling that had escalated dramatically since being shot. He would do it for you, my conscious reminded._

_I took a deep breath and kicked in the door, gun raised and in front of me, adrenaline my fuel source._

"_Freeze!"_

_There was a yell and a "What the fuck!" before my eyes started to register what I had seen in the past five seconds and when they did, hell they gave me a kicking._

_I'd burst into be greeted with the sight of Grissom leaning over a half-naked woman, him in his boxers, her in just jeans and socks and I assumed pants. After I had made my not-so-subtle announcement, Grissom had fallen off the bed and the mystery woman had grabbed the bed covers and thrown them round her._

Laughter rang round the hospital room, none being emitted from Grissom but from everyone else. Brass was an amazing storyteller!

"_Jesus Christ!" I yelled, spinning round, one hand over my eyes, trying desperately and without success to erase the images from my mind. "Jesus!"_

_I turned back slowly to face my friend, who was now standing and glaring at me. Although I was in shock and would need serious therapy after this I couldn't help but notice that he looked in good shape for a man of fifty. He looked better than I'd seen him for a long time actually (of course he'd been wearing clothes during the times I was comparing it to), which led my brain to believe that… _this_… was a bit more than a one-night… _thing_… and had been going on for a while._

"Jim!_" he growled. Oh dear, I was in deep shit!_

"_Hey Griss," I said slowly and steadily, making sure not to look at the bed – I was in enough crap without being accused of being a pervert._

"_What the fuck are you doing here?" _

_Now, most people when confronted with that tone of voice hurry and explain what they were doing and then apologise until they can't breath. But I don't because technically, _technically_ (and this was a huge technicality), this wasn't my fault._

"_Hey! You invited me here! Remember drinks?"_

_Grissom winced at the memory and there was a moan from the bed. Keep eyes on Grissom!_

"_So I knock to find the door open, the bell sabotaged, the house a _tip_, and somehow come to the conclusion that you could _possibly_ be in trouble!" Sarcasm is a wonderful thing. "Then I hear struggling coming from a room so I go to investigate. I don't know it's your bedroom because I have never been to the upstairs of your house! And I think, Grissom is a very clever guy, he doesn't forget stuff easily – except when it paperwork," Grissom scowls, "- so he needs help because he wouldn't forget we were going to go and get pissed. So I come in here to save his ass to find that he's made different sort of plans," Grissom bushes…_

"He _blushed_!"

Brass shot Catherine a glare.

… "_and _then_ he starts to blame _me_ when it is _technically_ his fault!" Grissom rolls his eyes. "For fuck's sake, oh sorry, slip of the tongue," Grissom glares. "I meant, for God's sake, I thought the guy had a gun…" My voice dies as I say this. Grissom looks like a rabbit stuck in front of a moving car. "She has a gun," I mutter to myself. _

_Jesus, I want to know who his girlfriend is! You just have to have a quick look. No! Bad Jim!_

_Okay, think. Women Grissom knows who have guns. Sophia – nope, they may have had something but that crashed and burned. _

Grissom rolled his eyes.

_Catherine – she's been flirting with Nick and Warrick too much._

"Hey!"

_Think Brass, think… Oh God – _Sara_! He's been acting differently round her – at today's case they were talking about when they met in San Francisco at a seminar. I didn't think much of it then but…_

"_You've been sleeping with _Sara_!"_

"_And for a second there Jim I was doubting your eye sight," countered Grissom, his voice along with his humour dry._

"_Hey, I didn't look!"_

"_He didn't Griss, I was checking." The voice came from the bed again, and I kept my eyes glued on Grissom, for more than one reason now._

"_It's okay Brass, I'm changed." I let out a breath I didn't realised I'd been holding and turned to look at her. While being dressed in jeans, socks and one of Grissom's shirts didn't really count as being dressed in my book, especially on Sara, a woman who reminded me, sometimes painfully, of my own daughter…_

"Aww, thank you Brass."

He just smiled.

… _it was better than the… _state_… she'd been in before._

_I looked at her, Grissom and back again._

"_You two have some serious explaining to do!" At that moment Bruno came bouncing up the stairs, his tail wagging gleefully._

"_Right on time," mutter Grissom sourly._

Greg didn't think he'd laughed that much in a long time. His sides still aching he was able to manage, "I can't believe he walked in on you two!"

Sara smiled, the tips of her ears slightly red being the only indicator that she was embarrassed at all. Grissom on the other was looking firmly at the wall, blushing profusely. Catherine was still giggling, leaning over and shoulders shaking, Warrick, Nick and the Doctor grinning like Cheshire cats. Brass looked very happy with himself.

"Well, is that an accurate version Grissom?" asked Nick, his smile growing wider every second. Grissom muttered something that resembled "Piss off", making the rest smile, and in Catherine's case laugh, harder.

Grissom checked his watch and stood up.

"I got to go."

"What?" said his girlfriend, looking understandably shocked and slightly hurt.

"I will be back in about an hour, but there's something I need to take care of," he answered as a means of an explanation. Sara didn't look impressed but kissed him when he gave her a peck and watched him leave with no complaint, just a sour look on her face.

"So girl, when's the Sidle family gonna be arriving?" asked Warrick, trying to take her mind off her boyfriend's abrupt departure and at the same time satisfying his curiosity – Sara never talked about her family.

"They won't be," Sara said simply.

"I think Grissom phoned them," said Greg, misunderstanding her reason for thinking that they wouldn't be meeting her family.

"Told or not, they're not coming," she murmured.

Not taking the hint that she didn't want to talk about it, the younger CSI men persisted, not noticing Catherine, who was deep in thought as she recalled Sara being terrified of her parents being in the hospital.

"C'mon Sar, don't say that! They'll be here, I mean, you were under a car," Nick assured.

"Could someone go and get me some water or something?" she asked, changing the subject. The men, finally taking the unsubtle hints, nodded and Brass and Al, saying they were hungry, left with them. Now it was just Catherine and Sara.

"So," said Sara, filling the awkward silence.

"What's Grissom like as a boyfriend?" asked the blonde suddenly. "Actually, scrap that! What's he like in bed?"

The younger woman studied Catherine for a moment before coming to a decision.

"Depends," she said finally.

"On what?" the CSI asked, intrigued.

"On who you're going to tell."

The blonde smiled at this statement.

"Okay, say I tell someone."

"You won't have anything to tell them," countered Sara.

"Say I don't tell anyone."

"No-one?"

"Not a soul."

Sara studied her again, decision making once more in progress.

"Shut the door."

Catherine leapt out the chair, slammed the door shut and regained her seat so fast Sara swore she could have beaten Mohammed Ali.

"Well?" inquired Catherine.

"He's _amazing_! Seriously, I don't think I have ever met someone so unlikely to be that romantic! He really makes you feel care about, but not in like a stupid, I-have-no-control way."

"He has the control?" the blonde asked, astonished.

"Depends on how _I _feel." They both smirked.

"What about the marriage front?"

"Well, _he's_ all for it," Sara said slowly.

"_Grissom_? Hold on, what about you?"

Sara paused. This was an area she was reluctant to discuss, even with Griss.

"I don't know," she said reluctantly.

One perfect blonde eyebrow rose.

"Don't get me wrong, I love Griss, more than I have ever love anyone. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. But… Marriage wasn't very well advertised to me."

Confusion spread over the older woman's features as she remembered Sara's fear about her parents once again and her certainty that no one from her family was coming to see her. But this time she also remembered Sara and herself arguing because the younger CSI had got too emotional about a domestic abuse case. Again. Like always.

Catherine had never really thought about it but Sara experiencing domestic abuse was becoming more of a likelihood.

"What about kids?"

"Again, Grissom's fine with having kids."

"But you're not." It was more of question than a statement.

"Again, not very well advertised." Sara was now avoiding Catherine's eyes.

"Hey guys!" said the group as they re-entered, breaking Catherine's chance from any more chance to question Sara further.

The group talked for ages, on everything and nothing; families (not Sara's), hospitals, bleach.

When Ecklie and the rest of the lab plus Sophia joined them briefly they had another shock – Sara was planning to return to work two days after she was discharged. What was more surprising was Ecklie agreeing.

People are weird creatures – when another person gets hurt or is put in danger when they are innocent, another persons feelings towards them can change dramatically – Ecklie was even being polite in a non-arrogant/arsehole kind of way!

Sara mood, if possible, seemed to rise after that, and after the millions of other people left the seven friends resumed the pointless conversation.

At about 11 o'clock Grissom returned.

"So, where'd you go?" asked Sara.

"There was just something I had to do," was his only reply.

* * *

**50 minutes earlier**

To say that the priest was surprised to see Grissom arrive and take a place on one of the back pews at the beginning of Mass was an understatement. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened in disbelief – maybe he was finally starting to hallucinate, after all he was getting older.

But Gilbert Grissom didn't leave; he prayed with the rest, head bowed, hands joined. When he came up to receive communion the priest had to believe that the entomologist _was_ real, and it was the same man who had suffered self-disappointment so badly when he couldn't convict the real murderer of a case and instead had to accuse the killer's innocent, younger brother of the crime, leading the youngster to commit suicide.

At the end of the service, when everyone else had left the church, the crime lab's night-shift supervisor was still there, at the back praying. When he finally got up to leave the priest called him.

"Dr Grissom!"

The man turned. "Father," he said as a form of greeting. "How are you?"

"Well." The priest studied the CSI's face but found it unreadable. "I had long given up on expecting you to come here, but God never gives up. He obviously found a way to bring you here."

"Hopefully next time it won't be so dramatic, worrying and bad for my mental state," Grissom replied.

"May I ask what happened?"

"My…" Girlfriend had always sounded so childish to Gil. "My _partner_ was place under a car by a serial killer and left for dead."

"Oh," said the priest simply. I guess there's no real reply to that answer thought Grissom.

"I came to say thank you," said Grissom as a form of explanation.

The priest nodded his head solemnly.

"Will we have your presence on a regular basis then, Dr Grissom?"

"I'm not sure," answered Grissom non-committing. "I haven't made up my mind yet. Good night Father."

And with that he left.

* * *

**This is meant to be the last chapter but I can write an epilogue if anyone's interested.**


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